


i'd give up anything, i'd give it all

by slashmania



Series: their love is just so Ludo [9]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Anything For You, Eames is going to keep proving to Arthur that he'd do anything for him, Love, M/M, and he likes a good story, and just when you thought it couldn't get weirder, because Arthur is the best, but where would he meet a king to make jealous over how great Arthur is?, but yeah he'll give those back because that is the depth of his love for Arthur, catches giant squid, fights a polar bear, he's going the throw away hard evidence of something evil somewhere far off the natural plane, is cursed by a witch, like harm nature, or pass on a scroll he'd gotten from a freaking god, or set free leprechauns, steals rocks from undiscovered moons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:10:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashmania/pseuds/slashmania
Summary: "I know you think I'm silly, and that I tell horrible stories like the one about me rescuing you from pirates. I'd do anything for you."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know its not the Ludo story I said I'd eventually write because of Valentine's day, but "Anything for You" is also a Ludo song that I really enjoy because its one of the ones that doesn't refer to a toxic relationship like "Whipped Cream." So go ahead and listen to "Anything for You" as I break the song up into little chapters!
> 
> I also make a reference to "Hum Along" when Eames say's he'd rescue Arthur from pirates by bushwhacking through Peru, but that's just because I couldn't help myself. It's a favorite and the most normal sounding thing when compared to any of the things referenced in "Anything for You." Enjoy!

Eames was a little drunk now, and he really didn't have to prove the depth of his feelings to Arthur. Arthur got it. Arthur understood and he loved Eames just as much. But Eames would say it even though they'd been together for several years. He just loved Arthur.

Arthur also loved Eames. He may not like public displays of affection, but he tried to show Eames his love in a variety of ways. His love was quiet, but sure. Arthur showed it by being dependable, by always listening when Eames needed to talk. He always had Eames's back, he would take care of him if he were injured or sick. Or in this case, a little drunk. 

So Arthur was helping Eames to his room, mostly because he loved him, but also because he really didn't want a repeat of the one time Eames accidentally walked into another guest's room. It was an interesting story but Arthur still remembered that he'd had to defend Eames, who blindly walked into a fight when the female guest began to argue with her husband that Eames _wasn't_ some man she's been seeing on the side. Arthur had bloodied up his knuckles getting the jealous husband to reconsider the beat-down he wanted to give to an honestly perplexed Eames.

That time, Eames had followed Arthur back to their rooms and sat up in bed with him. He put ice on Arthur's knuckles, occasionally pressing a kiss against Arthur's shoulder while they stayed up watching late night television.

So because Arthur was a good partner, he was pulling Eames away from the hotel bar with one arm draped over his shoulders, letting Eames lean against his body as they stood in the elevator, and Eames would laugh and say 'feel free to get a little handsy, love' when Arthur had to fish inside Eames's pockets for the key card.

"I love you a lot," Eames reassured Arthur after he'd fallen backwards on his bed, Arthur standing in front of him and looking around the room to spot one of the complimentary bottles of water he'd known were in his own room. He found one and left it within Eames's reach. Then he tried to find something like Tylenol.

"I know you do," Arthur said, finally finding where Eames had left some aspirin. "See where I'm leaving the bottle?" Arthur asked, waiting till Eames lazily turned his head in Arthur's direction, Eames smiling when he saw Arthur leave the bottle on the nearby nightstand.

"If I were telling our story, every version would have us growing old together. I imagine that you'll be an extremely handsome older gentleman. Do you think we'll make it, love?"

Arthur rolled his eyes as he moved to help Eames get more comfortable. "For a happy drunk you seem to ask me if we'll survive to old age every other time we drink after a job is over," Arthur said, pulling off Eames's shoes and leaving them next to the bed.

"I say that I love you even when I'm not drunk. And I get curious sometimes what our future would look like- we're experienced dream criminals with prices on our heads and rivals out for blood. Sometimes thinking about getting old is _comforting_. And if you're at my side I'm sure that people will think twice about offing us when all we do is enjoy retirement."

"I know that. You ask me these questions almost every time. And I'm telling you that it's really unlikely that when we're old we'll be offed by the mailman. Our present way of life is the real danger. Right now we've got dangerous jobs, Eames. Dangerous jobs for rich idiots who might try and use us against each other."

As Arthur began to loosen Eames's clothing a little, undoing a few of the buttons on his shirt since Eames seemed content to lay there like a fully-clothed starfish, Eames patted at Arthur's hand. He finally loosely held onto Arthur's wrist and looked up at him, saying, "You know that if anybody did that- if anybody tried to use us as leverage against each other- if anyone tried to make you disappear, darling, I promise that I'd rescue you."

Arthur had heard this before, too. He smiled and asked, "You'll rescue me if I get kidnapped by pirates?"

"I'll go bushwhacking through the jungles of Peru just to save you. Though I'm fairly certain that once I'm done bushwhacking I'll arrive and find that you've taken care of everything neatly. Because you're _the best._ "

Arthur leaned forwards and pressed a kiss against Eames's temple. "We're both the best. Now go to sleep."

Arthur was already getting ready to leave Eames's room when the man called out to him.

"Why are we in separate rooms, Arthur?"

"Because you were called in at the last minute and said you'd book your own rooms so you wouldn't distract me as I work."

"But the bed is so lonely without you in it."

"The bed isn't lonely, Eames, not with you there to stretch out across it. I'm sure it won't miss me."

Eames raised his head enough that he could get one last look at Arthur before the point man left him there to rest and sleep the alcohol off. "I know you think I'm silly, and that I tell horrible stories like the one about me rescuing you from pirates. I'd do anything for you."

Arthur shook his head more fond than exasperated. "Sleep, Mr. Eames. We'll talk about stories after we leave this hotel in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There are worse things than getting treed with you," Eames said. "If we weren't in danger of accidentally falling to our deaths, I'd give you a kiss and say how lovely the view is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just got some unfortunate news. I didn't get an internship and I feel especially stupid. But do you know what's good about my plans going awry? That's right, I write more fic! So have another chapter for this 'their love is just so Ludo' story!
> 
> And yes, I mention Shakespeare's 'exit, pursued by a bear' line and pair it with a reference to Cobb getting attacked by a bear (which I laughed about because of the scene in The Revenant).
> 
> Pardon the errors, I'll fix them later.

If Arthur had never seen the redwoods on the California coast, he'd say that the trees that appeared in their mark's dream were exaggerated by dream logic and fantasy.

And since their mark's subconscious security were literal _wolves_ that wanted to do more than snap at Arthur and Eames's heels as they had run with the secrets they'd been hired to steal, they had to find some way to get away without being mauled.

"Do you think these dreamed up wolves know how to climb trees?" Arthur had said to Eames when they reached one of the redwoods.

"We could wait at the base of this one and then politely ask, but I think it would be better to start climbing while we have a head start."

Arthur didn't argue. He started climbing as soon as Eames had stuffed paper covered with their mark's secrets into his jacket pocket.

Arthur hadn't climbed a tree in years, and free climbing something as wide as the current one in dreams was a little jarring, but it wasn't any different than any other trick he pulled with physics and logic in dreams. But exercise while dreaming still made him sweat and his muscles ache, so when they reached the lowest branch, Arthur used it like a perch, but forced himself to move further from the trunk so Eames could stay with him.

Once comfortably seated on the branch Arthur looked down at the wolves who prowled around the base of the tree.

Out of breath, Arthur sighed and looked at Eames. "I'd say that this branch will hold our weight long enough for the timer to run out. We'll wake naturally rather than fall and break our necks."

Eames looked down at the wolves and said, "In all my years in dreamshare I can't say that I was ever killed by an animal during a dream."

"Really? Not even some dreamer who read too much Shakespeare and allowed an extraction team to _exit, pursued by a bear_ _?"_

"We're you on that extraction team, love? We're you chased by a bear mid dream?"

Arthur shook his head. "Cobb, actually. He barely made it out alive."

Eames couldn't help but laugh about it, but soon he only looked out from their higher vantage point.

"There are worse things than getting treed with you," Eames said. "If we weren't in danger of accidentally falling to our deaths, I'd give you a kiss and say how lovely the view is."

"Still a nice view."

Yes, all they needed was a sunset. Arthur looked into a satchel that he hadn't been carrying as he ran for his life from dreamed up wolves, and as Eames watched curiously,  took out an apple.

"You're always prepared," Eames said as he watched Arthur use a pocket knife to start cutting slices from the apple that he shared with Eames.

"I take my role in dreamshare very seriously."

Eames smiled and instead of commenting on the wolves, the view, or even the slices of apple he'd been given, he looked at the trunk of the tree for a moment before saying, "You're not going to believe this, but this might be a tree I've seen in reality."

Arthur frowned and looked at what caught Eames's eye. There was a crude carving of what might have been initials. The only recognizable letter was the capital _e_. "It won't be the last time that anyone working a job in dreamshare brings something personal into the dream."

Well, it was nothing as drastic or damaging as Cobb's shade of Mal, or that train that appeared during the Fischer job, but Arthur was curious about its origins any way.

"You know enough of my personal history that it isn't a secret my parents were well-off. Better than well-off, to be honest. But my father was particularly proud about the history associated with the family estate," Eames smiled at Arthur. "He would say to me _son, your ancestors planted these trees by the road, it's the road you've driven down since the day that you were born._ And when I was that young I would have obvious questions about the logic of me, young Eames, driving down any road if as an infant I wasn't capable of eating soft foods or getting a license, but I was getting better and better at stopping up my smart mouth. It was obviously supposed to be some kind of lesson about our history and what course I should take in life. But at some point I stopped really caring about the story. I just liked climbing the trees."

Eames touched that crudely carved capital _e._ "But I grew out of it. I eventually drove down the road like my father said I would, but I didn't come back. I don't even know if those trees are still standing."

Arthur hesitantly reached out and touched the back of Eames's hand.

"So I guess it's nice that at least this one is here. It's about as close to being that old tree as any of the others here. Now it's with all these other perfect evergreens," Eames said.

Arthur could have offered his two cents about the symbolic weight of a bunch of trees Eames's ancestors had planted, how it represented not just his ties with his family but also an expectation that he was to remain on the same path as everyone else in his family.

"You know, I'm kind of glad that you'd driven away. If you stayed I doubt we would have met and become such a great team."

There was a noise in the distance, some kind of large machine starting up and the sound of something, of one of the furthest of these evergreens being knocked down.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Is that a  _tree_ _harvester_?"

Eames didn't look very perturbed. "I think it is, darling."

"But did the mark bring that into the dream? Did he realize the wolves hadn't killed us?"

From below, even with the noise of the tree harvester growing louder, Arthur could hear the whines of the wolves. They were getting frightened and already running away.

"No, the harvester is mine. These trees sort of look like the ones on the family estate even if I know they really aren't." Eames pressed his hand against the old carving, passing his hand over it. When he removed his hand Arthur could see that the carving was gone, leaving nothing but unmarred bark. "But one stand of large trees could just as easily stand for another. So, I'm going to chop all of these trees down for you. Then we'll run away and wake up."

Arthur blinked at Eames and said what was on his mind. "God, we really shouldn't have deep conversations while in dreams. You're chopping down what must be some very old, very beautiful trees to make a point to me."

Eames winked. "Of course I choose our present occupation and future together instead of some dreamed up trees. Anything for you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yes," Eames said as he buttered the toast on his plate. "I've walked a million miles in what could possibly be a hundred pairs of shoes. I'd love to know what's supposed to be the truth, ultimate or not. But, like I said, I'm passing it on to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since my week is going to suck and I have to do a lot of work for school, I'm thinking of allowing myself to post one chapter each day (if I have time, I'm not making promises, really). 
> 
> So have another chapter.
> 
> The ironic truths were things I found on Google Images. Well, also, they're ironic truths, so we've all seen them or had them happen. I've always done the 'pull' when I'm supposed to 'push' to open a door, or the opposite depending on the door. Or the checkout line truth!
> 
> as always, I'll fix errors when I find them during tomorrows rereading.

Over breakfast Arthur had only been interested in eating the omelette that Eames had made for him. But there was also a fucking _scroll_ leaning against the little vase of flowers. Since Arthur was sitting in his own kitchen and had never seen that vase before, he felt fairly certain that Eames was responsible for the vase, the flowers, and the scroll.

"Is there a reason why there's a scroll on the table?"

Eames was refilling Arthur's mug of coffee before he sat down to his own breakfast. He didn't even glance at the scroll, only topping off Arthur's coffee and putting the coffee pot back on the stove.

"Oh, it was given to me while I was walking around this morning. But I'm giving it to you."

Arthur put his fork down and stared at Eames.

"But who gave it to you? Why was it so important?"

 _And why are you giving it to me_ _?_ Arthur thought to himself.

Eames only shrugged. "Since this person, this _deity_ I'd say, dropped out of the sky and handed it to me, I thought that you were the one who ought to have it. They said it was a scroll of _Ultimate Truth._ Or _Truths_. I'm not certain and they did disappear rather quickly, so its not like I can actually ask them about it."

"You want me to believe that a deity, an _actual deity_ , came up to you and gave you a scroll. This scroll?"

Arthur still hadn't tried to touch it yet. It didn't look like a very large scroll, so even calling it a scroll of _Ultimate Truth(s)_ might fall flat considering that there were many things that could be considered ultimate, he guessed.

"Yes," Eames said as he buttered the toast on his plate. "I've walked a million miles in what could possibly be a hundred pairs of shoes. I'd love to know what's supposed to be the truth, ultimate or not. But, like I said, I'm passing it on to you."

Arthur's curiosity won out, and he reached for the scroll so he could carefully unfurl it and read what was written inside.

"For every door that instructs guests to PULL to open, the guests will PUSH instead. The opposite is also true." Arthur looked at Eames then read another one. "Of all the factors that increase the duration of a relationship, owning a dishwasher proves to be the most successful."

Eames was nodding along with that one. "I agree with that last one. I can't begin to tell you how many times a dishwasher made that big of a difference."

Arthur scanned down the scroll and read a few out of sequence. "When you go to a movie there is a chance that you will choose the only seats where very tall people will be sitting immediately in front of you and block the screen."

"Not every time, but it's happened."

"On a plane, you are most likely to be seated next to a crying baby, a person playing loud music on their earphones, a snorer, a drunk person, and a tourist who won't shut up."

"Thank god we were in First Class during the Fischer job then. Fischer's the baby, Cobb's the tourist who won't shut up, Ariadne could have been listening to music, and if Yusuf had gotten more champagne, he could have been the drunk person."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Who would Saito have been? Or either of us?"

"Saito is the terrifically rich man and we're the sane ones who just want to get off the plane in one piece."

"It is a fact of life that the line you stand in to pay for your groceries will always be the longest line. Any line you try to switch to because it appears shorter will then become the longest line."

Arthur stared at the scroll. It was a scroll of completely relatable _ironic_ truths about life.

And Eames had wanted Arthur to hold onto it for him.

"Are you telling me the truth about what happened? Is this another story?"

Eames widened his eyes and pointed to the scroll. "There's your evidence right there, love. One scroll of ultimate truth, given to me by a deity-"

"Maybe not a deity. How about a sarcastic person who makes a good entrance?"

"But you were home, dear. It couldn't have been you."

Arthur almost rolled his eyes. He did end up keeping the scroll and after breakfast took the scroll with him to his laptop so he could peek at the surprisingly large number of ironic truths someone had written there.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dreamshare is becoming the newest innovative therapy," Arthur said before they spoke with the parents.
> 
> "Aren't you at least a little bit excited to train a young girl's subconscious to protect leprechauns? Didn't you say that militarizing businessmen was getting predictable and boring?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to get creative with this one since in the song the narrator is just talking about "I was having rotten luck and nothing went my way, until I found a clearing in the woods" and so on to find leprechauns that he first catches to wish on (not like stars, but damn it that was the way the lyric is written, so leprechauns can be wished on like stars in his fic), then lets them all go just for the person he loves. 
> 
> I always would listen to this part of the song and shake my head because damn, this guy went from chopping down his ancestors trees, to getting a scroll from a god or deity, to kidnapping leprechauns. No kidnapping or enslaving leprechauns just be because you aren't lucky, dude!

Arthur was fairly certain that Eames had written that scroll of Ultimate Ironic Truths. Arthur had reached one of the last ironic truths later that day. It said _Dominic Cobb proves that b_ _eing the best and being utterly mad are not mutually exclusive._

Eames had to have written that. He had to! This deity nonsense was just a part of another story that Eames was telling him because saying that he'd done nothing more interesting than stop to get Arthur some flowers on the way back from the store was just too normal. It was also sweet, but Arthur didn't want to get away from the point he was making to himself.

But then he couldn't focus on it because they were working a bizarre job.

The job was, as Eames had said, 'Bizarre, but fun.'

The job was meant to be a new form of therapy for a pint-sized dreamer plagued by nightmares where she watched helpless leprechauns get kidnapped by some "scary, unlucky man". Her parents had been referred to Arthur and Eames by their therapist they'd.

"Dreamshare is becoming the newest innovative therapy," Arthur said before they spoke with the parents.

"Aren't you at least a little bit excited to train a young girl's subconscious to protect leprechauns? Didn't you say that militarizing businessmen was getting predictable and boring?"

Arthur sighed. "We're not doing that. This is just going to be a simple job where we let her save the leprechauns. Maybe beat up the scary, unlucky man you'll forge."

And Eames was much too excited about forging this bogey man.

Since he put so much research into his forgeries of people up above in reality, he carefully interviewed the six-year-old Jackie. As they chatted, he'd ask her questions about her nightmare, about the clearing in the woods where the leprechauns lived, and what did this scary, unlucky man look like?

Both had pads of drawing paper and some pencils and crayons. As Jackie would draw the leprechaun town, Eames would work on a sketch of his forge, periodically showing it to her and asking if he'd gotten it right.

"No," the little girl said after the third inspection of Eames's work. "His nose is bigger. And his mouth is wider."

Eames nodded and made the changes, asking her for another detail as he worked. "What about his eyes? Did I get those right?"

Jackie nodded quickly. "His eyes are very squinty, like he's trying to look into the sun!"

"I know someone with squinty eyes," Eames commented.

"Is he scary and unlucky?" Jackie asked.

"Eames?" Arthur raised an eyebrow and subtly shook his head. It was one thing to make Cobb jokes on a scroll he supposedly got from a deity. The last thing Arthur wanted was to find a projection of Dominic Cobb trying to steal leprechauns in this kid's dreams.

Eames nodded to Arthur before smiling at Jackie and saying, "He used to be unlucky, but I think things have gotten better."

Arthur made notes in his Moleskine and cross-referenced everything with the information little Jackie's parents had given him, notes and reports they'd received from the therapist, but after the small details were hammered out and Jackie's medical history carefully reviewed, they started the dream within the week.

* * *

Arthur had come along because he was the dreamer for the single level dream they had built for Jackie. Jackie had been napping when her parents carefully took her to Arthur and Eames's current warehouse, and she'd not stirred when Arthur had carefully set up her PASIV line, the child not even flinching when Arthur inserted the needle, the child's mother gently stroking her daughter's hair as she watched the process.

Their chemist stayed as sentinel, making easy conversation with the parents before asking that they wait in the next room.

"Five minutes?" The mother asked again as she held her husband's arm. She kept glancing over to where Jackie was sleeping on a lounge chair set up next to Arthur's and Eames's.

"Just five minutes," Arthur reassured her as he moved to his own lounge chair.

After the parents left, the chemist shook his head and said,"You've got to get a secretary for this sort of thing. Did you expect me to bring them coffee?"

"Lou, just watch over us. Keep an eye on the girl."

Lou rolled his eyes and moved to where the PASIV was set up.

"Yes, yes, I get it. Sweet dreams, happy hunting leprechauns or whatever!"

"We aren't hunting--" Arthur didn't even get to finish correcting Lou because the button on the PASIV had been pushed.

"You can tell me all about it when you wake up, man."

But Arthur was already falling asleep, getting dragged down into the shared dream with Eames and Jackie.

* * *

The best part about this job was the very basic architecture involved in building the level. They didn't need it to be so exact that it fooled Jackie into believing that she wasn't sleeping. Jackie was very aware of that fact; she knew every time she went to sleep that she'd see the leprechaun village, spot the villain, and witness the kidnapping. Though Arthur was holding up the level and used the forest and clearing as reference points, Jackie was doing the heavy lifting. 

Arthur and Jackie manifested in roughly the same space.

"But where did Mr. Eames go?" Jackie asked Arthur after she spotted him and ran to his side.

"He's around," Arthur said, offering her his hand so they could continue walking through the forest.

They didn't have to walk far till they reached the magical clearing. As they entered the area, Arthur got to see little leprechaun houses he didn't include in the design, going for more of a forest setting that Jackie could fill with structures and projections as she liked.

The scene they walked in on was of that scary, unlucky man snatching up leprechauns and shoving them into a sack!

Arthur narrowed his eyes (not squinting, damn it, he wasn't the villain of this dream and he wasn't Cobb!) at the sight. Eames was doing an excellent job playing the role of Jackie's bogey man. Now Arthur had to observe, possibly provide backup, but mostly make sure that Jackie was able to take care of this dreamed up person herself. She could be the heroine, she could win a medal from the leprechauns, whatever!

The more positive it was, the most likely it was going to stick and carry over to any other dreams she would have later on.

And Jackie let go of Arthur's hand so she could stomp her way over to Eames forging the unlucky man stealing leprechauns.

"You don't get to do that! You better leave them all alone!"

The scary, unlucky man looked at the little client, then at Arthur, before launching into the bit he actually rehearsed with Arthur to get it right.

"But I've been having rotten luck," he plead with Jackie while holding a wriggling sack of leprechauns. "Nothing's gone my way. Until I found this clearing in these woods, that is! I can wish on all of these leprechauns and solve my problems that way."

Jackie glared at him and stomped her foot! "But that isn't a nice thing to do! Why can't you _ask_ for wishes? Or be nice to people?" Then Jackie turned and looked up at Arthur, sort of expecting him to say something.

"Just do as Jackie says and leave the leprechauns alone," Arthur said, reciting the only line of dialogue he and Eames thought would be necessary if Jackie wanted an assist.

Eames as the villain gently placed the sack on the ground, his shoulder's sagging. He was almost comically sad, but they'd both agreed that Jackie would benefit from a moral lesson getting tossed into it. 'Stealing is wrong and scaring people is bad' would provide a good enough message to end the dream with. It could possibly carryover to her next dream where Jackie would be by herself and have to face his figure again. Arthur didn't want to tell her that violence was the answer and have that lead to her kicking her bogey man's ass every night. So the moral message was the better choice.

"I'm sorry for stealing," Eames was saying to Jackie as he opened up the sack and helped the little leprechauns out, setting them on the ground and even dusting off their green clothes. "I'm just so very unlucky!"

Arthur had to remind himself that Eames wasn't speaking to him. That he was speaking to Jackie, who nodded her head in understanding and actually walked over to him so she could comfortingly pat his arm, saying "I'm sure things will get better."

Arthur would have said something like, _Then stop gambling_.

* * *

When they woke up, Jackie was a little groggy and confused over the new band-aid she had on her wrist. The chemist had carefully removed the IV line when the dream was finished and she was still drowsing, so when she began to curiously poke at the Hello Kitty bandage, Lou gave her a lollipop. Distraction achieved!

To prevent their little client from asking why Arthur and Eames didn't get a candy, Lou gave them each a lollipop. Eames traded his sour apple for Arthur's grape because he knew that the point man detested grape flavored candy.

After Arthur escorted Jackie back to her parents, he came back to sit with Eames.

"Are you going to say that you'd let all the leprechauns go?"

Eames pulled the lollipop from his mouth and considered it and Arthur's question. "But leprechauns aren't real."

"That didn't stop you from knocking down a stand of trees in a dream forest or saying you got a scroll of ultimate truth from a deity. I just think you're trying to come up with a bunch of weird stories that all end with way for you to prove that you love me."

"I would let all the leprechauns go just for you. If they were real I'd let them go, but for the sake of argument I'd even let hypothetical or dreamed up leprechauns go just for you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur took both items to where Eames as laying on his side, fists clenched. He only opened his eyes when Arthur touched his shoulder.
> 
> "Bastard collapsed my lung."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, on the 16th I had written over half of this chapter, but my computer crashed and I lost all the work I'd done that day. And then every other time I tried I'd end up deleting everything because the first draft really was the best draft. So what I've posted today isn't that great and because its still Easter here, includes a joke about rabbit themed Get Well Soon cards. Yes, Eames should have a Hoppy Recovery with Arthur at his side, patiently listening to what Eames thinks happened to him while he was in surgery. 
> 
> This particular section of the song proved to be the hardest to recreate because I didn't want to have Eames literally "cross the natural plane and commune with the dead". So instead we've got a dreamshare related injury, a trip to the ER, and some recovery time that includes pain meds and a chest tube. (Which I can say from watching a friend experience it hurts like a son of a bitch if you get one, but is so much worse if you need two...and yes, my friend also told me that one of her hallucinations was sitting next to me and wearing my shirt. Or a similar shirt. She was on the really strong pain meds!)

Arthur excelled in dealing with the unexpected. He kept his cool and he came up with other solutions when he needed to.

So when Eames disappeared from the second level of their dream just after retrieving the information they'd been hired to steal, Arthur calmly pressed his gun to his temple and pulled the trigger. He opened his eyes on the first level, noticed that the chair Eames had been sitting in while hooked up to the PASIV was empty. The architect holding the first level together was looking between Arthur and the PASIV line that must have been Eames's, and unnecessarily alerting Arthur of the obvious. 

"Arthur, he's gone, he vanished!"

Arthur nodded shortly. Then he shot himself awake.

* * *

 

Arthur was greeted by the sight of Eames bleeding from a wound on his right side. Laying on his own lounge chair, Eames was trying to turn on his right side and use the combination of gravity and pressure to keep the wound closed. 

Arthur heard a commotion not far away from the place where Eames lay, and got to see Lou, their chemist from the last job, handily beat what must have been Eames's attacker with the nearest blunt object at his disposal- a stapler. When Lou saw that Arthur had detached his line and got to his feet, the chemist began to report to him.

"I don't know _who_ this guy is, but the second he got in here he picked one of you and-"

"I'm not going to ask you how he got through the locked door."

"I didn't leave you guys alone."

"And I didn't say that you did," Arthur said, his words becoming sharper as he continued to speak. "Just steal the man's weapon, tie him up, and find me some plastic and some tape."

Eileen, the architect had woken up and detached herself from the PASIV. She had found the roll of duct tape, as Lou handed over what looked like (and actually was) a Ziploc baggie.

Arthur took both items to where Eames as laying on his side, fists clenched. He only opened his eyes when Arthur touched his shoulder.

"Bastard collapsed my lung."

"I get it. We'll cover the wound and take you to the nearest hospital, but for now you've got to try and relax."

Eileen helped Arthur roll Eames onto his back. Arthur ripped open Eames's shirt and exposed the wound. He took the plastic and laid it flat against Eames's side, trying to not think about the pained noises Eames was making as pressure had to be applied. Eileen handed Arthur three strips of duct tape and was about to give him a fourth when Arthur gestured for her to stop.

"Three's enough." Then Arthur took Eames's hand in his own. "Eames, this bandage will serve as a vent so the air can escape. And that's the limit of my First Aid for a collapsed lung. I'm going to take you to the hospital now, okay?"

Eames nodded, but didn't say anything. He did gesture with his free hand to where their mark was still sleeping.

"He gets to stay here with the man who hurt you."

Eames nodded once more and quickly pressed his lips against Arthur's hand, squeezing once.

* * *

 

"Someone got me balloons?"

"Lou still feels bad about what happened."

"Did you find out how that guy got in?"

Arthur closed the magazine he'd glanced at while sitting at Eames's bedside. "He got in through a window. From what I could gather after the fact, he was supposed to be watching the mark, then came in to rescue them. But I haven't had a chance to get those answers from the man himself."

The _but I'll do that eventually_ was unspoken, but understood.

"How are you feeling?"

Eames still winced when he moved. He had to be careful because of the chest tube that was still carefully siphoning off the fluids from the wound. Arthur remembered what Eames's reaction to the chest tube had been after he'd come back from surgery. He'd reached for Arthur's hand and moaned about how he'd been shanked, then he had to be given additional pain meds, leaving Arthur to be the sentinel at Eames's bedside.

It didn't get better, but over the course of several days Eames improved. He'd stay in the hospital for another week if he continued to show good signs.

"I'm glad I'm not on the heavy pain meds anymore. The hallucinations were getting weird."

Arthur recalled those too. When Eames was awake, he'd often calmly talk to Arthur about something that 'wasn't there, I know it isn't, but it's sitting next to you and wearing your shirt, alright?'

"I know that I scared you a little, love," Eames apologized again. "It's just that I'd swear I had a nightmare while I was under for the surgery, but it was far too realistic."

Arthur smoothed out the blankets on Eames's hospital bed. "We've all had those sorts of dreams. Considering what we do for a living, having a realistic dream is the most suspicious thing ever."

Eames smiled at Arthur's attempt. "It was weird. I was surrounded by dead people, which would have been just as concerning if I wasn't stuck in a hospital gown, but I realized I had a camera? I think?"

Arthur had listened to this story before, but several days ago it was much more fragmented. And Eames would talk about how he'd gotten pictures of something bad, then explained to Arthur that people always seem to want some proof.

Eames looked up at the balloons again, saying, "Does Lou feel _really_ bad?"

"I don't think he'll be so quick to accept the next job offer, so we'll give him some time. I like team members who can think on their feet."

Arthur handed Eames the card that Eileen had sent for him before she left the area.

"I like to think of the positives," Arthur said as he passed over the card. "We got the information we needed. You made it through the surgery. See, all positive."

Eames closed the card that had been decorated with cheerful bunny rabbits dressed as doctors. "It says I'm to have a _Hoppy_ _Recovery_."

Arthur couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "A terrible pun, but I'll take it. I'll settle for a hoppy recovery."

"You know, if I really did get pictures of something bad- like bad as in evil- I'd give them to you."

"I've always wanted hallucinated pictures of the evil dead."

"Can I have more water?"

"Of course," Arthur said as he reached for the water carafe left on Eames's tray, and filled Eames's cup to the brim with ice water. "Anything for you."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur didn't hate imaginative dreamers except when jobs were complicated by imaginative dreamers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this chapter I'll condense the four events mentioned in the second to last set of lyrics- so prepare for a polar bear scar, a curse from a witch, (maybe)catching a giant squid in all the seven seas, and collecting rocks from distant moons! It didn't come out how I thought it would, but that's just fine!

Arthur didn't hate imaginative dreamers except when jobs were complicated by imaginative dreamers.

When the panserbjørn began pounding through the snow of another tundra-themed dreamscape, Arthur narrowed his eyes and dragged Eames by the shirt-collar when the forger paused to gawk.

"Damn it," Arthur said as the armored bears drew closer, eating up the miles like they were nothing. "This gun isn't going to make a dent in that armor!"

Arthur thought to himself about how _now_ had to be the time that they ran into someone who read any of the books from _His Dark Materials._ If their mark appeared and had a daemon at their side, Arthur wasn't sure how he'd respond!

Since he and Eames hadn't manifested on this level with representations of their souls lingering at their sides, they'd surely stick out. They'd defy the fantasy novel logic they'd fallen into for this dream and absolutely none of this had shown in the research!

They'd have to try and run from the bears who wore their souls as _armor._

"You know, I only ever glanced at those books. I wonder why this didn't show up in any of the research I did?" Eames asked as he continued to stare.

"Ditto," Arthur answered. "I'd say we'd run, but they're too fast."

"We should come up with something quickly, love," Eames answered, tension rising.

If bears were scary, then bears covered in armor were scarier.

So as the bears covered ground quickly, kicking up snow, and growling, Eames pulled his gun and pointed it at Arthur.

"Wake me up and we'll regroup!"

Arthur got shot in the head and fell backwards into the snow, while Eames was bowled over by a bear wearing armor!

* * *

Another dream, another screw up.

The mark, this time dreaming themselves as a small child, clung to Arthur's free hand and cried. 

"The witch is gonna eat me, Mr. Arthur!"

Arthur grit his teeth and wished he didn't have to rescue this mark who'd decided to shift from a _His Dark Materials_ dream to something that didn't fit with the mundane environment Arthur and Eames had worked out. No bears, Eames had begged, touching his side as if it still hurt him where the armored bear bit him and then tossed him aside during the last dream.

And it seemed that it didn't matter that they'd purposely chosen a setting that wouldn't invite something fantastic, because a goddamned cackling _witch_ appeared to menace them.

"Promise you'll still love me if I get stuck hopping around eating flies?" Eames said, his voice a little strange. Toads weren't supposed to have human voices. That witch had pointed one finger at Eames and cursed him. _Cursed him!_ Arthur did the only thing he could think of and dropped his gun so he could pick up the cursed forger, now a cursed frogger, and took the young mark by the hand so they could try and escape.

"You'll be fine when you wake up again, Eames. I promise!"

* * *

"I keep thinking I'm going to croak," Eames whispered to Arthur as they snuck from the depths of the ship to the deck. "Then I hiccup."

"That's fascinating, Eames."

"I can even show you that scar from the armored bear," Eames said, already tugging his shirt up and away from his side. Arthur caught a flash of the dreamed up scar, but swatted at Eames's hand and asked him to quit it.

"Later, later! This is difficult enough right now."

It was true- they'd staged the ship, the sea, and the darkening skies. But the poor mark's newest dose of Somnacin was already influencing the dream more than it should.

The ship was rocking against the waves with a nauseating rhythm, and Arthur could already tell where the mark was just from the sound of the poor bastard's dry heaving.

"Yusuf warned us that this mix could reduce the dreamer's influence, but have other side effects..."

"Like Giant squid?"

Arthur turned to look at Eames, seeing where the man was pointing.

"...that's a very big tentacle..."

"What are you thinking about now?" Eames asked.

"Anything but Cthulhu."

"Oh, I thought you'd say anything but tentacle porn."

Arthur looked away from the ocean and glared at Eames.

"Was it not enough that you've been attacked by a bear and cursed by a witch?"

Eames stared out at the water. "I might want to try catching a Giant squid. Or seven, who knows how this dream is going to go?"

In the background, the mark finally stopped dry heaving.

* * *

"We're on the moon, and you've decided to give me moon rocks..."

"No, we're in our mark's head. So far this dream level is the most stable, but I won't hold my breath because, you know, a xenomorph could easily come along and ruin this for us."

Arthur examined the moon rocks Eames had passed to him while they watched the mark playing at being some kind of astronaut. Or was he supposed to be an astronomer...either way they'd all rode the same ship, the mark assumed that Arthur and Eames were his fellow astronauts, but the guy still hadn't questioned why Arthur and Eames weren't wearing spacesuits or helmets.

"I say we give him a few more minutes and then help him discover what he needs to find so we can collect our fee. And then we will never ever have to speak with this person again."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saito had pulled out a handkerchief and was- he was wiping away tears? "That was beautiful," Saito said. "I can't believe it, Mr. Eames. I'm jealous now."
> 
> "Jealous of all the nutty stuff he's done to prove he loves me?" Arthur said, Eames looking over his shoulder at Arthur in surprise.
> 
> Saito shook his head and pulled out his phone. "No, now I've got to call my wife. Excuse me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's over, folks!
> 
> As I'm preparing for final deadlines and turning in portfolios and directed projects, my commencement looming in the distance, I just couldn't help but ease my anxiety and stress by writing what I love best- Arthur and Eames, Arthur and Eames in *love*, so in love that its so Ludo!
> 
> I'm probably going to go back and mark this story as unrated- I hate ratings, and each time I type a swear, or include a scene where Eames is shot, or mention the term "tentacle porn", I feel it makes the story not quite G-rated? 
> 
> I had a ton of fun writing this, so go ahead, kudos and comment if you enjoyed it too!

Arthur had been invited to James Cobb's birthday party. There was literally no way he could get out of it because the invitation had been hand written by the birthday boy himself. Arthur also _didn't_ want to get out of it. So he could rephrase it as 'there was no way he could _or_ would get out of it' because both Phillipa and James were the closest Arthur would ever have to a niece and nephew. Shit, he'd followed Cobb around the world and took the backstabbing the man had to offer after the over-sedation was revealed on the first level of the Fischer job, just to get that idiot home to them.

So he put on his happiest face and greeted Cobb at the door, then was genuinely happy when he knelt down to say hello to Cobb's children. They got hugs while Cobb was busy greeting Eames at the door.

"I was designated to carry the gift," Eames said while giving Cobb a businesslike handshake. "I'm Arthur's plus one!"

"The invitation didn't say anything about plus one's," Cobb answered, still moving out of the way to let Eames in the house.

"Well, saying I'm his plus one is a way of saving you any discussions with your children about the man Uncle Arthur brought with him to the party. Kids pick up on everything, so when one or both ask you to explain why Uncle Arthur doesn't have a girlfriend, I'd suggest you get through it quickly and make it a nonissue."

"But why didn't you just say you're his boyfriend, then?"

Eames passed the gift to Cobb and smiled. "Because I'm not the one who nearly got everyone trapped in Limbo." Eames's smile widened a fraction. "I feel that if they ask, you should get to have a potentially complicated conversation about how not every relationship has one woman and one man. I feel that you should have the opportunity to get some quality parenting in because, you know, getting back was so much more important than any other member of your team surviving the dream without having their brains turning to scrambled egg. And that's all I've got to say about that, Cobb."

Then Eames switched gears and conversational topics as he moved past the slightly stunned Cobb to stand beside Arthur, who was now standing with James Cobb in his arms. Phillipa Cobb stood close to Arthur, tightening her grip on the point man's slacks as Eames approached.

"Phillipa," Arthur said, gently chiding her. "Mr. Eames isn't going to take me away- I said I was going to let you choose my party hat, and that's final."

She relaxed her hold on Arthur, really looking like she wasn't going to fight with Eames over Arthur. Apparently she'd developed strong feelings about helping Arthur decide what party hat he should get...

"Don't worry, Phillipa," Eames assured her, "Arthur already took my advice over what tie to wear to the party. You help him choose a great party hat."

Then Eames leaned down to formally shake her hand and introduce himself. "I'm Eames, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Arthur, who had heard what Eames had said to Cobb, couldn't hide his smile. "Say hello to the birthday boy before he gets involved in some important birthday party affairs. He's told me that his schedule is packed."

James started giggling, understanding that Uncle Arthur was making a joke, but probably not quite getting it. And that was perfectly fine.

"Ah," Eames said, falling in line with Arthur's quip, "I don't want to keep you away from business for too long, Mr. Cobb. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your dad tells me you're turning- what, eighteen?"

James shook his head, giggling still. "No, I'm turning seven!" Then James showed Eames seven fingers to demonstrate.

"Thank you, maths isn't my best subject."

* * *

There were a variety of party hats to choose from- standard conical ones with the elastic bands, others were top hats in various shades, cowboy hats, and pirate hats! There were even paper crowns painted glittery gold.

James, man of the hour, had chosen a pirate hat. Phillipa proudly presented Arthur with a hot pink top hat, who got down to her level and knelt so she could place it on his head like an Arthurian crown- the point man doing these things without a single bit of embarrassment because, come on, Phillipa was a sweet kid, he couldn't say no when she gave him that silly hat! (And fuck, if anyone tried to embarrass him and make her upset on his behalf, he'd politely take whomever it was aside and quietly threaten them.)

"There are so many kinds of hats," Eames said when he saw the tiny hat table in the spacious backyard, "I'm not quite sure which is the hat for _me."_

A familiar voice said, "I don't know about you, Mr. Eames, but I felt that crown to be at least a little humorous."

Eames looked up and spotted, of all people, Saito, wearing one of the paper crowns and somehow managing to pull it off without looking completely ridiculous.

"Come sit with me," Saito was saying, already moving to a table with a few chairs set up around it. It was close to the refreshments table, several tables away from the gifts, and offered a great view of the party games, moon bounce, and so on. It seemed that Saito was more of a wallflower. "We've not had a chance to chat, Mr. Eames. How are you?"

* * *

There were party games that Arthur participated in. He didn't go into the moon bounce, though James tried to persuade him. He ate cake, drank soda, and accepted a frosting tinged peck on the cheek when James opened up Arthur's gift of three comic books and a new box of Legos.

As it grew later and the kids invited to James's party eventually went home with their own parents, Arthur searched for Eames and found him slouching over some alcoholic beverage that matched the one Saito had in front of himself.

Arthur shook his head and slipped off his hot pink top hat and approached the two men who where in conversation. Arthur caught the tail end of what Saito was saying. Saito's crown now tilted to the side at a jaunty angle as the former tourist said, "...and with the division of Fischer Morrow,  Proclus Global was able to compete once again. My business prospects have increased. I've even begun to speak with Robert Fischer about the directions he intends to take what remains of his business."

Eames sighed. "I read that he fired his godfather."

Saito nodded and then took a sip of his drink. "I feel that I'm monopolizing the conversation. Business, business, business."

"I've been working with Arthur," Eames said, still not noticing Arthur leaning against a nearby table, now just listening in and not caring who spotted him. " _And it's the best_."

Saito nodded, adding, "He is a very good point man."

"He's the best," Eames insisted. "Listening to you talk about business and profits and takeovers is great. I'm sure it's benefited your company, but honestly Saito it just pales in comparison to Arthur."

And Saito just let Eames continue to talk. The forger leaned in and told Saito all about it!

"He's so capable, Saito, like _really_ capable. We had this nightmare client who kept changing the dream on us, and they, they had this _witch_? That man has got to love me if he'd rescue me when I've been cursed and changed into a toad. Or frog. A frog-toad thing? I love him so much that I metaphorically cut down the trees my ancestors planted. I gave him this scroll of Ultimate Ironic Wisdom. Saito, I gave back leprechauns!"

Arthur shook his head and cleared his throat, trying to make his presence known, but seriously, how had Saito not spotted him yet? Arthur was standing right there!

Saito had pulled out a handkerchief and was- he was wiping away tears? "That was beautiful," Saito said. "I can't believe it, Mr. Eames. I'm jealous now."

"Jealous of all the nutty stuff he's done to prove he loves me?" Arthur said, Eames looking over his shoulder at Arthur in surprise.

Saito shook his head and pulled out his phone. "No, now I've got to call my wife. Excuse me."

Arthur took Saito's seat and stared at Eames. "You've made a terrible habit of expressing your feelings when you've had just a little too much to drink."

Eames looked into his half-empty glass. "I really don't think it was all that much. Granted I don't remember where that bottle of scotch went, but I say I love you all the time. Sober and not so sober."

Arthur smiled. "This feels so familiar. Remember the last time you did something like this?"

Eames reached out and laid his hand over Arthur's. "All I ever wanted, see, was to tell you honestly. That I'd do absolutely anything for you."

Arthur decided to help Eames up from the table, leaving the mess for Cobb to take care. The sea of party hats were a product of James not being able to decide what kind he wanted and Cobb feeling a little too much paternal guilt about being away for so long, making Cobb get lots of different ones, making a standard mess a little bigger.

"Saito will probably help Cobb. Help him by sending over a fleet of...whomever cleans up after parties."

Arthur let Eames lean against him as they walked. The forger wasn't nearly as sauced as the time before, but Arthur liked having Eames that close anyway. The kids were in bed, Cobb was taking a break and not thinking about his backyard, Saito was probably talking to his wife. Arthur and Eames would make their getaway.

"I'd give up anything," Eames was saying to Arthur.

"Really?"

"I'd give it all," Eames assured Arthur.

"I believe you," Arthur said. "Thanks for thinking I'm the best. In case you didn't already know, I think you're the best, too. I may not say it all the time, or show it in front of other people, but you understand, right?"

"But do you like my stories?"

Arthur laughed. "Let's not stretch it."


End file.
